


Dawn's Rising Over the Horizon

by Compass_Rose



Series: When We Stand in Unity verse [2]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Character Thomas - Freeform, Gen, Pokemon AU, Tags will be updated as they become relevant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:48:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26820913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Compass_Rose/pseuds/Compass_Rose
Summary: Marshadow doesn't know much about his past--and to be honest, he doesn't really care. He has more than enough trouble dealing with the present, especially one pathetic little human who has somehow garnered the attention of both Team Rocket and omnipotent wild Pokemon.However, when a sudden storm endangers the human he was sent to retrieve, Marshadow discovers that some of his memories weren't quite as lost as the Rockets led him to believe, and that maybe--probably not, but you know, maybe--there's one human out there he just might be able to trust.
Series: When We Stand in Unity verse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1941421
Kudos: 3





	Dawn's Rising Over the Horizon

Marshadow sprinted through the treetops, leaping from branch to branch just as easily as if he had been born among the leaves. He kept his eyes trained on the ground below him, his sharp gaze following the human’s every movement. The man didn’t seem aware of his presence, however, and continued his pitiful little speed-walk toward the northern thicket, where the Stantler and Deerling does liked to bed down with their fawns. His gait was impeded slightly by the gallon bucket he carried, causing Marshadow to outpace him occasionally, and forcing the Gloomdweller Pokémon to either wait for him to catch up or, more commonly, retrace his steps until the human was within sight again. It was irritating and time-consuming, to say the least, but there was nothing Marshadow could do to speed things along.

The human had no idea he was being followed, least of all by the same Pokémon who had knocked him unconscious two-and-a-half days ago. Marshadow scowled to himself as he recalled the memory. The man had finally woken up as the sun was starting to set, and he was more than a little disoriented at first. Confusion had radiated from him in waves as he glanced around the forest, gingerly turning his head this way and that as he struggled to gain a sense of where he was and what had happened. Then his eyes had lighted on Marshadow, and the humanoid creature could see for himself the very moment that he remembered. His eyes narrowed, and his previously open gaze turned wary and fearful. His muscles tightened and he had scrambled backwards as quickly as he could, pushing himself to his feet with the help of a thick, gnarled root.

For a moment, neither of them had been quite sure what to say, though the air between them was heavy with awkward expectation. Someone had to _something._ Recognizing that the responsibility of starting the conversation lay on him, especially after having attacked the human twice unprovoked, Marshadow hesitantly stepped forward. He had tried to explain the situation as best he could—which basically meant he had lied through his teeth—telling the human that he had been afraid that the man had been trying to trick _him_. Humans, he said, always acted nice before they caught you, and he had assumed that Thomas was no different. That the man’s kind words and offer of friendship was merely a ruse to distract him so he could catch Marshadow and claim him for his own. He had only wanted to chase the man away from his territory, but when he extended his hand like he did, Marshadow had feared it was some kind of human trick and reacted defensively. But he hadn’t meant to knock the man out, really. That had been an accident. It was easy to forget how…breakable humans could be. He had smiled at the man then, though the expression looked more jagged and frightening than anything and mimicked the human handshake gesture one more time. He said he hoped they could still be friends.

It was, Marshadow thought, a very well-woven lie. It built on the man’s previous assumptions regarding the Pokémon’s actions, and offered a relatable, emotional reason for his behavior—fear was something every species experienced, after all. It played on the human’s sympathies, painting the grey being in a softer, more subordinate light, and offered a perfect opportunity for the man to prove his superiority by ‘taking the higher road’. Unfortunately, when Marshadow had constructed the fib, he had overlooked one tiny, but oh-so-relevant little detail: the human couldn’t understand a word he said. All of the shadowy creature’s carefully fabricated explanation went in one ear and out the other, leaving the human with his back pressed tightly against the tree trunk and a look of mounting trepidation on his face as Marshadow extended his hand.

The man had all but broken down before Marshadow then, babbling in a hysterical, stream-of-consciousness kind of way that the fighting/ghost type had heard from other Pokémon a hundred times before—but this was the first time he’d heard it from a human. The man had all but begged Marshadow to let him go, and Marshadow agreed, mostly because with the communication barrier in play, he was going to need a little time to think up another way to get the human to trust him. It had nothing to do with way the human was scraping his back against the abrasive tree bark in a desperate attempt to put as much distance between them as he could, or with the way every inch of his body seemed to tremble as he held his arms rigidly against his sides and ducked his head low, doing his best to make himself a smaller target without making any sudden moves.

No, Marshadow knew better than to be duped by such obvious fear tactics. No human he had known would ever show that much weakness to an enemy.

…Still, if he moved slightly to the side and turned his gaze away from the man—just to make sure that the rustling in that bush behind him really _was_ the wind blowing through the leaves—well, it wasn’t his fault that the human bolted on him when his back was turned. Humans were unpredictable that way. And if he had been more concerned with finding shelter as the sun crept steadily lower behind the horizon, who could blame him? Johto nights were cold, especially in the spring.

~~The fact that, as a ghost type, Marshadow had a much higher threshold for hot and cold temperatures was nobody’s business but his own.~~

So, the grey Pokémon had trudged through the forest, a maelstrom of thoughts and schemes swirling around in his head. He needed a way to gain the human’s trust, especially if he wanted to have any hope of completing this mission _without_ having to clash with a technicolor attack-bird six times his size. Unfortunately, like most humans, this one didn’t seem all that willing to let bygones be bygones

But unlike most humans, this one had reacted in fear instead of anger when faced with his attacker. Marshadow didn’t know exactly what that meant for his mission, but he was fairly certain he could find a way to use it to his advantage. Especially since the lack of anger on the man’s part meant there was less risk of having to battle him at some point later on—a fact which worked out well with the ‘do not attract the attention of any more giant humanistic wild Pokémon’ part of his plan.

As for the rest, well, that was going to take a little time. But Marshadow was nothing if not patient. He’d find a way to wear down the human eventually.

It wasn’t like he had any other choice, after all.

Marshadow flinched, blinking in irritation as a sudden crack of thunder exploded high above the canopy of the forest. The strident noise pulled him from his memories, forcing him down, back into his current situation. He quickly returned his attention to the ground beneath him, only to find that the human was still plodding along through the undergrowth. The man had reached the densest part of the scrub brush and was struggling to push his way through, with somewhat limited success. Marshadow smirked. Didn’t the human see that he was too big to force his way in? With every step the man took, he scraped his exposed skin against another thorn. With every turn, more brambles snatched at his clothes and trapped him deeper in their weave. The shadowy Pokémon scoffed quietly; leave it to a human to think he could just go wherever he wanted to and screw the consequences.

For several minutes, Marshadow was content to watch the man flail against the underbrush. His frustration amused the grey creature, and his muttered curses, while tame compared to the expletives Rocket operatives would belt out, made for a pleasant enough diversion. The wind began to speed up, blowing a cooler breeze in from the East, and though Marshadow was immune to the temperature decrease, he did enjoy the feel of the wind rushing over his body. There was even the barest taste of electricity in the air—a sort of wild, negative charge that seemed to energize everything it touched—

A storm was brewing.

Distracted as he was by the human’s one-person show, it took the observant being a second longer to connect the dots than it normally would. Once he did, Marshadow shifted uneasily in trees, all mirth bleeding out of his orange gaze. The Pokémon wasn’t worried for himself; he had weathered hundreds of storms in his long life and could easily weather a hundred more. But humans had much less physical strength and endurance compared to Pokémon, and they were much more susceptible to sickness. Especially when the rains came. The storm wasn’t that far off now, the pacing of the thunder revealed that much. And the taste of the wind, the heavy dampness of the air and the wild electric energy it carried, told Marshadow that it was going to be a harsh one. If the human was caught outside in it, he could easily trip over a root while stumbling through the downpour, fall down a hill, and break his neck. Or the cold could weaken his body. He could catch a chill and lie down to sleep and never wake back up again.

The Rocket wanted this man alive.

So, Marshadow had to do everything in his power to keep him that way.

Holding his hands out in front of his chest, the dual-type redirected his energy, causing a black and purple sphere of dark energy to coalesce between his hands. This Shadow Ball was twice as big as the one he’d used to attack the human, and Marshadow knew he had to be careful. He’d only have one shot at this—one shot to free the human without harming him, and one chance to do it without being seen. The Pokémon cautiously took his mark, mindful of the way the man was twisting and turning, and when the idiot leaned slightly more to the right, he hurled the Shadow Ball into the briar patch.

The ghost type attack arched through the underbrush, burning a wide path through brambles as it curved near the human. The man have felt the sudden heat, because he froze immediately, only turning to watch the orb after it had completed its’ arc around him.

The human blinked with wide eyes, his eyebrows scrunching down in confusion as he followed the path in reverse, trying to determine where the sudden attack had come from. Unbeknownst to him, however, the Gloomdweller Pokémon had retreated into the shadows almost as soon as he had fired off the sphere. There was nothing for the man to find but a nearly silent forest and the cold chill of the wind as it whipped through the trees.

Shrugging, the human picked up his bucket and, with one last, wary look over his shoulder, stepped onto the path that had been cut out for him. 


End file.
